Due Process (Joe Dillard #9)(59)

“I was a little rude,” Murray said. “I’ve heard a lot about you. To be honest, I was a little scared of you.”

“Well, as you can see, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I don’t breathe fire or anything,” I said.

“Do you know about my past?” he said.

I nodded. “I had the sheriff checking you out less than five minutes after I saw you that day.”

“I’m clean now,” he said. “I drink a beer now and then, but that’s it. You don’t have to worry about me being around Grace or your sister.”

“I’m not,” I said. “My sister has had her own struggles. She can take care of herself. And if she was the least bit concerned about you being around Grace, well...I don’t even have to say any more about that. So my curiosity is piqued. What’s important at this time of night?”

“I need your word you won’t tell anyone I talked to you,” he said.

“Okay. You have my word.”

“Seriously. I could wind up dead.”

“Sounds ominous. You have my word.”

“I was born and raised on Buck Mountain up in Carter County,” Murray said. “Ever heard of it?”

I nodded. “I’ve represented a few folks from up there. I’ve sampled a little Buck Mountain special reserve moonshine. It nearly blew the top of my head off.”

Murray chuckled. “Yeah, my granddaddy used to have a still. He made some wicked stuff. So anyway, my folks are both still alive and still live up there so I go visit them on occasion. Yesterday was one of those occasions. I stopped at a convenience store in Hampton to get gas on my way back and ran into an old high school buddy of mine, a man by the name of Garrett Brown. Ring a bell?”

“Can’t say that it does.”

“Garrett was a big shot in high school and we were close. We ran around a lot together, got in some mischief, chased girls. You know how high school boys do. Well, I ran into him at the convenience store and we got to talking. He knew I’d been in the pen for a long time, so I guess he thought I would naturally be a candidate for what he had in mind, but I’m not. I don’t want to have anything to do with what he has in mind.”

“What’s he have in mind?” I said. “Since you’re here, I assume it has something to do with me?”

“He’s a member of the Klan. He invited me to a meeting tonight. I’d just come from there when I went to Sarah’s and she called you. You apparently have some big hearing scheduled tomorrow at the courthouse in Jonesborough, right?”

I nodded. “I’m hoping to put an end to the prosecution of the three young black men that were charged with raping the white woman at the football party back in August.”

“They’re planning an attack,” he said. “They had a bulletin board up with a bunch of pictures that he said are going to be the targets. All three of the boys’ pictures were up there, plus you and your son and the woman who practices law at your office.”

“You mean Charlie Story?”

“Yes. Charleston Story was what he called her. They also plan to shoot those other lawyers and any black person they can shoot.”

“How are they planning to do it?” I said. “Are they going to come in the building and shoot it out with the bailiffs?”

“No. They’re going to have scouts in the courtroom and in the parking lot. They’ll be waiting at different locations nearby. Once they get word the hearing is over and people are coming out, they’re going to come tearing in the lot in pick-up trucks and start blasting away. They want to try to kill as many as they can in a minute and then get out.”

“How many will there be?”

“I’m not sure,” Murray said, “but Garrett mentioned other ‘brothers’ from different counties around here that will be involved. I’m guessing they’ll have at least twenty shooters.”

“And you’re supposed to be one of them?”

“I told him I would, but I’m not going anywhere near that place. I don’t have any desire to be involved in any kind of violence, and I’m not a racist.”

“Did they give you any kind of instructions on where to meet up with anyone?”

“Yeah, there’s a power station near the end of Bugaboo Springs Road. It’s six or seven minutes from the courthouse, they said.”

“I know where it is.”

“I’m supposed to meet them there. They told me to bring a rifle, but I’m a convicted felon. I don’t have a rifle. So they told me they’d have one there for me.”

“Do you know the sheriff here? His name is Leon Bates.”

“Heard of him. Never met him.”

“He and I are friends. He’s a good guy, honest as they come. He’s also in charge of the security at the courthouse. Would you be willing to share with him what you just told me?”

Murray nodded. “I don’t see why not.”

“Good. Let me get him on the phone and get him over here. He’ll want to hear this in person, and I’m sure he’ll have a lot of questions.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Murray said. “Garrett and his buddies burned the cross and shot up your house. They bragged about it to me. The worst thing was they had a cop with them when they did it. Some investigator from Johnson City. He was at the meeting.”